Fiddling with the Unknown
by AbandonedRoads
Summary: Elizabeth Emerson, a witch entering her fifth year, was practically invisible- her social anxiety and hatred of crowds doing nothing to help that fact. As Elizabeth desperately fights to over come her social barriers, she unwittingly entwines herself in a fate greater than her own as she captures the attention of the supercilious future Dark Lord, Tom Riddle.
1. Chapter 1: The Plot

Chapter 1: The Plot

Speculating one's future and planning for it has never appealed to me as an idea. No one really has plans ; anyone who's actually planned anything for this life is simply choosing hasty steps across a rickety, winding path which they've already been pushed onto.

It sounds so erroneous, I know. But if you could jot down all your plans on scraps of paper and all the abrupt madness life has struck you with so far and pile them up against each other, you'll see for yourself which surpasses which. This suddenness to matters is one thing we wizards have always failed to see. It's one thing Lord Voldemort had failed to see, and so did the boy Tom Riddle before him. I believe this suddenness is what brought us together...

Social anxiety , also called social phobia, is an anxiety disorder in which a person has an excessive and unreasonable fear of social situations... But why here ? Why here in a crowded platform with your mum and sister ? Why here ?

Hogwarts Express greeted the station with its rumbling wheels and screechy hooting, leaving a mass of circulating grey smoke in the atmosphere as its engines shut down. Embracing Arfur The cat's cage, Elizabeth eyed her clumsy feet nervously as she proceeded towards the train alongside her sister Joelle and her mother. Arfur, his crazy green eyes glinting, seemed to warn her under the pressure of his wobbling cage not to drop him under any circumstances.

The racket of the jingling bars of the cage seemed to draw curious glances to the cat and Elizabeth. What is there to look at ? Just a cat, for God's sakes. "Mum," She mumbled, stumbling up to the witch whose blonde curls were concealed under a classical black pointy hat and a matching plain dress. Elizabeth painfully remembered how the Muggles wrapped their attention around the three of them several minutes ago at King's Cross all thanks to their mother's eerie - in Muggle standards- getup.

She thought that she was going to drop the cage and flee the station, the dreadful OWL year of awkwardness and stress awaiting her, and her mother's irksome perkiness. But she let the captious stares stab her like daggers as they passed the Muggles and got through the barrier of the concealed platform. "Yes, Dear," She said with a notable dose of cheerfulness in her tone after minutes of humming the same damned melody. "Will you carry Arfur, Mum ? He won't hold still." She explained forlornly, her heartbeat steadily rising.

"I will hold him," Joelle said , her blue eyes sparkling as she looked at Elizabeth. "Geez, Elizabeth, you didn't have to hug the cage ; you could've held it from its handle." Joelle remarked as she seized the cage out of her hand. Oh yeah, she thought nervously, feeling exceptionally dumb.

They were standing in a cluster of students elbowing and jostling their way into the entrance of the train. Not feeling keen enough to take part of the hustle, Elizabeth watched Joelle slowly vanish into the crowd, and she was stirred away by her mother for a "quick word" as she said.

"Darling, you know that Professor Merrythought - your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher - is a dear friend of mine ," she said, the momentarily glint in her round, dark eyes betraying her excitement. Can't be good. Elizabeth nodded and glanced sideways at the chatter of the throngs fading away into the train. "Yes," Elizabeth gulped.

"She told me that she was interested in growing student's talents, and that reminded me of your singing !" That thrill gleam in her eyes seemed brighter, and she was somewhat oblivious to the urgent hooting of Hogwarts Express, but that seemed to go unnoticed by the both of them. Elizabeth was helplessly swamped by sickening images of her chained on a dark stage and before her were her schoolmates and they were overpowered by hysterical laughter. They were mocking her, and she had stinging tears streaming down her cheeks, struggling to bring the lyrics to her tongue.

Her heart plunged once, twice, until her chest was beating with a wave of pain. "No!" She chocked, shaking her head.

"You're trying to help, but no !" And the shimmer in her mother's eyes was put out like the flame of a torch blown by the cold wind. " I can't sing ! I never could sing !" She sputtered and carried on speaking incoherent words. "Darling, you have such a lovely voice !" Her mother exclaimed in a desperate attempt to persuade her.

"ELIZABETH ! THE TRAIN IS ON THE MOVE !" Called out Joelle swinging at the entrance. And indeed, the wheels began turning and the engines were puffing almost at once. Sparing her mother a one last glance, Elizabeth raced alongside the exhilarating train, her blonde hair flying with the wind, and grabbed her sister's outstretched hand and was pulled aboard.

"What took you so long ?" She asked crossly. Looking over Joelle's shoulders at the students still bustling throughout the train, Elizabeth said simply," Never mind, have you found an empty compartment yet?"

Joelle's eyebrows rose in enraged amusement," You're right ! Maybe I should have left you unwarned at the platform and found myself somewhere to sit ! You know, it is only fair after having to load your luggage and carry your cat." She flipped her golden hair behind her and turned away from Elizabeth. What are you all mad about ? She thought of asking her, but then decided against It.

She isn't mad ; she's just acting all mighty. It's one of Joelle's many "phases" - as her mother liked to refer them.

Hours and hours passed by with Elizabeth keeping her eyes on nothing but the forests and hills of green skipping away out of her window as if it were some rolled film. Joelle, doing nothing but huffing and glaring at her sister for damning her with her antisocial nature, neglected Elizabeth's wishes at the end by bringing some of her friends over to their compartment. I will be fine as long as they leave me alone, she thought, fidgeting with her lacy pink skirt. "So," said the girl with the round tan face and big chocolate-brown eyes, whose name must've been Chloe... Clara... Clair, leaning over to Elizabeth. "You're Jo's sister ?"

"My twin, actually."

"Twin ?"

Elizabeth listened to their exchange with her grey eyes fixed upon the scenery of the hills.

"But," She trailed off, leaving her scorching gaze to rest upon Elizabeth's back.

But you're a lot prettier.

Springing out of her seat, Elizabeth said in an undertone something about needing to see someone or go somewhere, and scrambled out of the compartment.

This is so pointless, she thought observing her pace. Darling you have such a lovely voice, her mother's words rung in her ears. Maybe... Maybe I can sing. Her pace was aimless, unguided by her mind which was in a deep state of contemplation. Memories of the past of her singing merrily at a young age, a few years before, almost every day that summer, and that very morning all came back to her, and the reluctant realization finally came along with it too.

I can sing. I could always sing.

"The end of him shall be soon. I don't want no hustle about it." Said one of the blurred far off figures, his voice exceptionally rough. "Death's upon his shoulders, you mark my words. Everything's going according to plan. They will bring in the beast tomorrow morning, and while he's at securing its path, it will overpower attack shall be too quick and smooth for any of his superiors or peers to react." Replied the other, observing his companion pacing back and forth. The figures, they weren't at a distance. They were close to Elizabeth, or rather she was close to them. Their moving limps were visible, their oddly-shaped heads clear, but the details and their surroundings were vague. "Who is to die ?" She asked, her voice coarse and scratchy. Her eyes shifting between the two of them, they plotted on their murderous ordeal, as if Elizabeth had not uttered a word. "But I do detect the suspicious movement of the stars encompassing his life cycle," one of them proclaimed so calmly, observing a swirling mass of colored gases at his feet. "What's that supposed to mean ?" The other questioned with an evident note of impatience. "Their position cannot be properly delineated. I rarely see them flickering around in such notion. Usually, when I see them likewise, I know the most unpredictable is about to happen."

His companion cut him halfway through," I have been most patient with the inanity of your readings of those incomprehensible stars, but I will not have all this gibberish foul my work. It will go as planned ! Tomorrow, the boy dies ! Understood ?"

Tomorrow, the boy dies ! Understood ? Elizabeth woke with sweat trickling down her forehead and her chest heaving. The dormitory was buzzing with sounds of snore that was so similar to a drilling in its high-pitched cacophony. But on the brighter side, the girls were asleep, and that's how Elizabeth liked them best. She wormed herself out of the sheets, and tiptoed across the dorm after hastily putting on her black and scarlet Gryffindor robes, passing pairs of four posters of snoring grunting girls.

Scrambling into the nearest bathroom, Elizabeth wheeled around to meet her own reflection staring passively back at her. Her complexion was ghostly white and it foreshadowed an impending illness of some sort , but those pair of grey eyes seemed to glow, being coated by such paleness of skin. That blond hair of her's was sagging and could use the touch of a brush, but she couldn't think about that then.

Draw a deep breath... Breathe... Breathe... What do you think people are going to say about it all ? Breathe... Breathe... People always have something to say. Calm... Be very calm... Breathe... But can you handle it ? Stop... I can. Yes, I can handle it. Breathe... Elizabeth groped her pockets and felt relieved to feel her wand under her robes. Gazing up at the ceiling, she thought, maybe Professor Merrythought wouldn't like my voice anyway. W-why not try ? She paced out of the bathroom and down to the abandoned common room, which was set in a yellowish hue at that hour due to the golden rays of dawn infiltrating through the windows. It was a perfect timing. She knew, everyone knew how much of an early raiser Merrythought was. That woman liked to bustle around her study, go over assignments and other records perhaps, as awakened and as prepared as any DADA professor should be. Slipping out of the portrait of The Fat Lady, which, like any matter capable of thought dwelling no where beyond the premises of the castle, was asleep and snoring reposefully, Elizabeth crept across the corridors and down a staircase. The sound of her footsteps against the checkered tiles helplessly bounced on the walls and resounded throughout the hallway. But that didn't really matter she was drawing closer... closer... CRASH ! Turning around a corner to Professor Merrythought's office, her face collided with someone's chest and she lost balance, landing straight on her backside. "Ouch," she whimpered inaudibly. A long pale hand was stretched before her and she heard the most tranquil voice - somewhere along the lines of seductive - say,"Sorry about I ?" Once she had grasped his hand, he gently pulled her back to her feet, leaving her to be mesmerized by those cold yet handsome pair of black eyes. His name was slowly coming to her at last - Tom Riddle."May I ask what you're doing up so early ?"

"I was on my way to Professor Merrythought's office. There's something I need to talk to her about ." What are you doing here so early ?

Tom's eyes did not part her face, as if examining her facial expression for a sign of a possible lie, and it couldn't have been more the way his lips parted in a soft click, he seemed to have wanted to say something, tell her that Professor Merrythought was away perhaps, but then it was none other than her who rounded up on them. Her graying bun wobbling at the bottom of her head and her over-large spectacles askew, she was saying ,"Oh, well, I see you managed to catch her, Tom. Good morning, Elizabeth. I heard you speaking to Tom here and I'm pleased to see that you've finally decided to drop by. You are a bit early, but I am rather excited for you. Why not come to my office ?"

Her claw-like, pale hand clasped Elizabeth's shoulder, and she was helplessly stirred away. "Do get yourself some last-hour sleep, Tom. All this patrolling must have drained you," she called out over her shoulder as she continued to yank a petrified Elizabeth forward by the sleeve. "Thank you, Professor," he said and turned on his heels, Elizabeth listening to the thudding of his footsteps across the hallway. The door at the end of the corridor seemed to draw closely into view as the two of them paced towards it, and it struck Elizabeth how inevitable her fate was. No matter how her heart seemed to hurl itself against her ribs with every beat, no matter how difficult it felt like to breathe, Merrythought was still going to push her through that door and into her office. And you came here by choice, Elizabeth. It was the wish of none other than you to be here and sing. So sing. It happened too quickly. It happened in a disarray of thoughts. The door opened, they walked in, the door slammed shut behind them, Elizabeth took her seat on an armchair opposite the desk, trembling, and now she waited for Professor Merrythought to be seated, too. The room was wrapped in an unusual silence, too unusual for an office under the occupation of a DADA teacher. It was peculiarly spotless as well. "Your mother told me something very interesting," she stated, beaming. "Did she ?" Elizabeth repeated calmly, not meeting her teacher's gaze. "Yes, she told me you could sing," she said, standing up from her squeaky armchair, and pacing about the office. "Now, I am very excited about helping students grow their talents, and why not start with you ?" Good to be your lab rat, Professor. Darting towards Elizabeth and grasping the sides of the armchair, Professor Merrythought leaned in and said,"So sing, Elizabeth."

"What ?" She asked, glancing sideways in confusion. "Don't matter, anything." Merrythought said, walking back to her armchair now. And there the tension was rising in her chest once again, and she blurted mindlessly," I hate to be judged, Professor." Merrythought looked up in surprise at hearing these words and confirmed in a somewhat offended tone,"Not going to judge you, Dear. I will only evaluate a talent that you already posses. You do posses a talent of some sort ; everybody here does." Elizabeth closed her eyes, still frustrated, still upset, but the voice in her head seemed to tell her, command her to sing. And it so simply happened. She started off so quietly that it sounded as if she was humming, but then she raised her voice and the beautiful melody of the song began to shape up. Her mouth went dry of frustration and she decided to cut it out there. Looking up to a particularly pleased Professor Merrythought, she heard her say," Well ? That was beautiful ! You missed several notes, of course, but no worries. It can be helped."

She clapped her hands together and sighed,"So, everything seems to be coming along alright. I will assign you several appointments when you could come here and practice, and how knows ? Maybe someday you'll get to sing to the whole school." Elizabeth's face was drained of every color and her eyes betrayed no emotion, but her heart was still bouncing like a Bludger inside her chest, nevertheless. "But," Merrythought pronounced sharply,"that is not entirely up to me. I am not

in charge of you." She paused and Elizabeth nodded her acknowledgment . "Who is in charge of you, however, is the head of your house, Professor Dumbeldore. What needs to be done is very simple ; we need him to sign a note, confirming his approval." And so, she reached for the stack of parchment at the edge of her desk and torn out a slip. Handing it over to Elizabeth, she said," Do try to get him to sign it today. The sooner the better." Pocketing the note, Elizabeth bid the professor farewell and left, feeling remarkably unshaken.

Sunlight filtered through the window panels of the corridor which outlook the crystal clear lake and the petrified-looking oaks of the Forbidden Forest encompassing it. Elizabeth observed her hasty footsteps across the tiles, wondering how much of Transfiguration has gone by already. She could vaguely remember the other girls shaking her awake when she had overslept but then she'd huff in exasperation and turn over, wrapping the covers around her. A sickening swirling in her stomach made her feel like Professor Dumbeldore wouldn't be particularly pleased about her tardiness ... and he's supposed to sign the note. Classrooms droned on as she passed them, until she finally stopped dead in front of her's . Rapping the door, she patiently awaited for that,"Come in." and walked through the door. Dumbeldore's pale eyes were gazing expectantly at her, and the rest of the class ceased to acknowledge her entrance. "Miss Emerson, you're late," he stated Elizabeth licked her dry lips nervously and said," I realize, Sir, I'm sorry."

"Do take a seat," he commanded calmly and took to flipping through several parchments before him. Parading aimlessly throughout the classroom, she watched all the her classmates huddled in pairs, no where for her to settle. As she passed her sister's desk, Joelle hissed rather loudly," Hey, over there ! There's a spare seat over there !" Turning to where Joelle repeatedly pointed her chin, she saw at the back of the classroom, a beaten up wooden chair beside the prefect she had encountered earlier that morning.

"Uhm," she gulped nervously ,stepping before him. His dark hair was neatly combed to one side and it went along perfectly well with striking looks. He laggardly spun his head to her and said in a nonchalant fashion," I am sorry ?"

"Do you mind if sit here ?"

"Not at all," he voiced and returned to inspecting the bare wall opposite him.

The session proceeded with Professor Dumbeldore placing fully-grown emerald toads before every single one of them, leaving them with the task of transfiguring them into cups. Soon enough, Elizabeth begun to regret sitting beside Riddle, for with the swish of his wand and its gleaming tip, he transformed the dumbfounded frog into a dainty white cup with a gold lining, making the spell seem just so adaptable. On the other half of the desk, however, if Elizabeth wasn't zapping the flustered creature for mispronouncing the incantation, she was striking him sharply for not swaying her wand in the right motion. It wasn't long before Riddle took interest in the havoc she's caused when her frog skidded all over his books and almost toppled his ink bottle over. " I am so sorry," she apologized profusely as Riddle placed the struggling thing in her wide opened palms. "That's alright," he muttered, looking quite stern but not meeting her eyes. "Try swishing your wand half way through your incarnation. That should do," he explained as Elizabeth was about to go for a second, his tone the usual collected one but perhaps with a slight combination of nausea this time. "Alright, sure," she agreed, tucking blonde curls behind her ear her and steadying her wand.

Minutes flew by cursorily and the ringing bell had finally marked the end of Transfiguration. Elizabeth managed to transform her toad into a hopping, misshaped cup at last. It was not to be compared to Tom's royal design but it was definitely a satisfactory progression. The class was instantly filled with the scraping of chairs and chatter after the bell, and it wasn't long enough until it was her and Professor Dumbeldore alone in the room. "You're still here, Miss Emerson ?" Dumbeldore asked, his auburn head bowed as he organized assignments into his briefcase. Elizabeth was seated half-way across the classroom and was staring at Dumbeldore in a manner that suggested contemplation. She cleared her throat and said,"Yes, Professor, I was hoping I could... we could talk about something."

"And what's that supposed to be ?" He said, still not looking at her. Elizabeth held her breathe as she said," Well, Professor Merrythought, she... I..."

He was very much staring at her now as she helplessly groped for words. The gaze of those brilliant blues eyes burning through her. After what seemed like hours of chaotic confusion, she released the tie of her tongue and was about to speak, but just then, a very flustered Professor Slughorn burst through the door, his overlarge belly jingling. "Albus, you ought to head down to the green houses immediately," he gasped, wiping sweat away from his reddy forehead.

"What's the matter, Horace ?" Dumbeldore responded, his brows furrowed and completely neglecting the assignments on his desk. "They've brought in that exotic pitcher plant without a beforehand warning, and -blimey Albus!- I haven't seen anything quite like it. Must have been a hundred feet tall and you should see what it's done so far. We could use your help down there, Albus." And without a further due, Dumbeldore was partially out of the door when he wheeled around to Elizabeth and said," You may head to your next class, Miss Emerson, as you're already late."

Divination, who wants to go to Divination ? And why haven't I dropped that bloody class yet ? A buzzing silence preoccupied the gloomy Transfiguration room Elizabeth was in, and she remained seated, staring out of the window at the grassy green hills embracing the castle. She watched the numerous tall-grass wave and dance in the balmy breeze, causing a ripple-like motion about the hills. You should go down to the greenhouses too, you know. Elizabeth crossed her eyebrows and pondered, no, Headmaster Dippet might be there and he'd be livid to see me skipping class. Oh, he won't know, the voice resounded in her head as she continued to observe the scenery of Hogwarts's grounds. We'll hide around a corner and watch them, and by the time they're done, Divination would be long over and it will be lunch.

She was trying to reason with that bored mind of hers, but at the end of the day, she was bored and she was young. And so, Elizabeth was trotting down the sloping hillside on her way to the greenhouses. The breeze from earlier embraced her and caressed her cheeks and brushed her blonde mane. The sky was clear and a pale blue, not a single white cloud staining its portrait. Her black robes billowing behind her, she raised her hand before her face, a protection from the cruel, scorching glisten of the sun, and just then, the greenhouses rose from under the cover of the tall-grass, and Elizabeth could hear a vague voice shouting out instructions from within the walls. The door was slightly opened for Elizabeth to peek through, and she saw a mass of black robes, teachers and students alike, girdling what must've been the pitcher plant Professor Slughorn spoke of. She glimpsed its spiky tips waving around in indignation as they tried to restrain it.

"Look at it brawling, some monster !" One of the prefects grumbled aloud. "Sometimes I do wonder why they bring half this nonsense into the school to begin with ! It only seems bloody to me !" At last, it seemed as if they had succeeded in restraining it for its spiked branches drooped, wilting in fatigue, and it was the Headmaster whom spoke next, breaking the intense bubble of silence,"That shall do. Well done, everyone-"

That was until one of the branches stirred. What followed was a surreal blur of withdrawn movements and gasps. It stirred once again, and before anyone knew it, the branch had gone berserk and beset one of the prefects. It was Tom Riddle. He was quick to withdraw his wand, very stealthy, indeed, but the plant was quicker. It wrapped its bone-crushing branch around him and one of the spikes pierced his shoulder, stabbing him. And as if the scenery hadn't been grisly enough, blood was dripping down his shoulder and falling to the ground with a mesmerizing tick. Teachers finally seemed to grasp the situation as they'd begun to fire hexes at the roots of the pitcher plant as it dangerously waved Riddle through the air. His determination was extremely impressive for he steadily aimed a jinx despite his injury. That's when something awakened within Elizabeth, sending a ripple of adrenaline into her bloodstream. Breaking in and stumbling forward, she raised her wand and cried," Incendio !"

With a swishing wave that cut through the air, a great crimson flame was glimmering and flickering around the plant. As the branches recoiled away from the scorching heat, Tom fell with a heavy thud to the ground, overpowered and unconscious. Every living organism has its instincts, ranging from survival to countless others. Being under the influence of the survival instinct perhaps, the branches of the pitcher plant struck the air reaching out for something, until they dangerously leveled with Elizabeth. One of them whacked her so sharply across the face that she was wrapped in a blanket of darkness before the rippling pain consumed her.


	2. Chapter 2: Hello Fate

Chapter 2: Hello, Fate

Elizabeth stood bewildered by the plane of whiteness which stretched endlessly before her eyes. As she observed the unnaturalness of the mystic realm imprisoning her, her mind whirled with questions : where was she ? What was she doing there ? And how could she get out ?

Her footsteps resonated throughout the region, marching into nothingness. She stopped every once in a while to inspect her surroundings that could've perfectly suited the description of a blank page. She was the only accomplishment of an artist who failed to finish the painting, and she was left with a beating heart and a lonely universe of white. Looking down at her feet, Elizabeth saw that she was barefoot and draped in a light chemise which she found unbearably revealing. "Hello! Can you hear me ?!" A voice echoed over her shoulders, startling her.

She turned around to face her speaker. The look of him was alarming ; his face muddied, his attire ripped and stained, and he looked like he's been through the wars. Raspy gasps escaped his dry lips, and his green eyes shimmered under round spectacles that were remarkably askew. Elizabeth stood petrified as he edged nearer towards her. She didn't know if she should offer him a hand or flee instantly. Stopping in front of her, Elizabeth made out the shape of a curious scar cleaving his forehead. "What is this place? Do you know where we are ?" He asked. Elizabeth, not finding her voice, simply shook her head. The boy, he seemed to recognize her, for his jaw hung open slightly, and his flustered expression seemed to be wiped away only to be replaced by something worse; dislike and a whole lot of rage. "It is you," he muttered, cementing his sharp eyes onto her. "Me ? You recognize me?"Elizabeth chocked fearfully. The intensity of his gaze enhanced as he said,"You saved him, didn't you ?"

Elizabeth was cowering now. "What ?" The boy persisted to goggle at her like a somewhat repulsive alien. "Do you have any idea what you have started ?" He said. "Hey, back off !" Elizabeth barked at him unexpectedly, groping her apparel for a wand she didn't have. Although there was a good circular white spot between them, his angry demeanor made everything seem so clustered.

His rage might have been a side effect of something that had been broken deep down inside, for misery was evident in his green eyes. It was ironically safe to conclude that he had lost something or someone, and he took Elizabeth as responsible. "How do you-"

The first few words he uttered were perfectly understandable and coherent, until a cacophony of shrieking and drawling seemed to have been emitted from his throat. Not knowing how to react to that, not wanting to wander her gaze away from something that masqueraded as a human but being nowhere as one, Elizabeth lumbered away hastily and in fear. The boy, unaware of what came out of him, eyed her suspiciously as she stumbled away, away into another portal of darkness.

Her eyes fluttered opened to a portrait of chaos. She was in Hogwarts, but it wasn't the Hogwarts she'd known for the past four years ; it wasn't the Hogwarts she'd ever want to wake up to. Students she had never seen before scrambled away and tripped in attempt to flee stray hexes. The screaming never seemed to cease, and the heat coming from the rampaging inferno, which consumed most of the hallway into its crimson blaze, was that of hell. Elizabeth pulled herself to her feet and kept her head bowed as she skidded along the walls, trying to escape the havoc. Running down the corridor, Elizabeth pushed through panic-stricken students and those whose injuries left them on the tiles to be swarmed in puddles of their own blood. It was her anxiety kicking in all over again ; her eyes widening, her forehead sweating, her chest heaving, and her senses sharp and acute. She didn't know what she was thrashing for, what she was running to, but she knew she had to get to The Great Hall. Arriving right at its entryway, Elizabeth saw that its once mighty doors were blasted off, and it was in a similar scenery as the rest of the castle. The Great Hall was a blur of swishing green and scarlet hexes, fired at a frenzy manner to take down whoever. Amidst all the horror and confusion, all the blood and slaughter, Elizabeth's eyes caught a figure whose sight was truly frightening. She wasn't sure who he was, what he was, but if there was a living model for evil, it would've been him. Cloaked in black, the eyes of a man with the features of a serpent gleamed red, and he prowled the hall so casually, as if he's just so well-adapted to the homicide of minors and bloodshed. It was where he belonged. The most unexpected happened. He, it, caught her looking at him, and he didn't seems all too happy. Narrowing his eyes that were the red slits of a python, raised his wand at her, an Elizabeth couldn't move. Her legs had been turned to stone. She watched his lips mutter an incantation, and with the speed of lightning, the green tail of the killing curse traced her path, and struck her square in the chest.

I don't want to open my eyes. I don't have to open my eyes...

An eerie static enclosed around her ears as Elizabeth arose back to consciousness. Her back rubbed against a soft mattress and she was wrapped in a warm sheet. No more madness. This was Hogwarts ; the realm of reality.

Elizabeth blinked rapidly when her defenseless eyes met the wild light of the sun pouring in through the windows into the spacious room. Having adjusted to the dim room, she looked at her surroundings. Beds at her sides, behind her and ahead of her, she took in the silence of the hospital wing. It must be lunch. How long have I been here ?

Feeling the throbbing pain of her face, Elizabeth nervously caressed her numb cheek where the pitcher plant had struck. Her sensitive patch of skin stung red-hot that she didn't dare brush her index-finger so gently against it. Why, even her jaws creaked with pain when she tried to open her mouth. The pain was going to last a while, she knew that. Glancing to her side, she saw Tom Riddle stir noiselessly on his mattress. The way he slept was somewhat worrying. His skin was so pale and he didn't seem to breathe as he slept, not even his nose twitched, that it made him look like nothing but a cold demised body. His sheets were crumbled beneath his feet.

It must be so cold, Elizabeth thought, eyeing his bandaged shoulder, a bloody spot spreading halfway through the once stainless white of the bandage.

Her robes were lain motionlessly on a wooden chair opposite her, and she got up to put them on. Putting the robes over her shoulder and sliding her arms into the sleeves, she glanced at Tom one more time, his body slumped on the mattress like a lifeless chunk of stone, his wound was still painful to him and pulsing, no doubt.

She wished that if is she's ever to be in that position, she wouldn't be so badly neglected. Who would want to arise with a runny nose and a cough after surviving a lethal wound ? It just wasn't fair to leave him that way, and before the guilt mounting in her stomach could swamp her, she tiptoed to the edge of his bed, pulled the blanket from under his feet, and so motherly placed it over him.

"Miss Emerson, I see you're awake. Feeling better, I hope ?"

Professor Dumbeldore's tone echoed in her ears. To envision that scene and portray it, one could easily tell just how wrong the sight of Elizabeth standing beside Tom's bed, covering him could be intercepted by an innocent bystander. The idea did not demand to be stressed, for it was clear. It was clear enough for Elizabeth with the sunken, non-pulsed heart to understand. She so disbelievingly wheeled around to face the nonchalant look of Dumbeldore. What a wonderful timing. It just couldn't have possibly felt more like the odds have combined to destroy her.

Gazing deeply into the cage of those blue eyes of his, Elizabeth said,"Professor Dumbeldore, hello..."

Don't stutter, now. Don't look guilty. Oh, Heavens, why now ? Why here ?

"Oh, yes, Riddle must be feeling very cold indeed," he stated, glancing down at Tom.

"That was a very considerate thing to do, thank you, Miss Emerson."

Elizabeth kept her eyes downcast to her feet, curiously observing them as if she'd never seen them before and tried to bring a coherent sentence to her lips, but she couldn't.

For the first time in what seemed like eternity, she didn't windup in the hospital wing because she was so "incidentally" hexed in Charms or because someone thought of pulling a savage farce by stretching a foot and tripping her down the stairs, no. This wasn't one of those embarrassing occasions that really seemed to be what her Hogwarts life composed of where she went to see Madam Klerk all teary-eyed and left so shakily to be subjected to more sarcastic peer-pressure. Elizabeth was standing there with half of her face painfully numb because she's finally done something that was considered Gryffindor-ish. But, of course, it was still achieved by a smart slap across the face from a thick branch, but that didn't seem to wipe away the joyous pride of that hour. No, not even rub the surface.

Professor Dumbeldore blinked at the day-dreaming Elizabeth, captivating her wandering attention once again when he said, "Your parents were informed of what took place the other day."

They were informed ? The other day ? Her eyes widened as she tried to progress the situation. Knowing her mother, there was not a chance a week could go by without a delivery of approximately five letters that neither she nor Joelle bothered to skim anymore, and she couldn't, she just wouldn't let her mind wander anywhere near what her mother could've done in the light of Elizabeth's injury. She just couldn't. Her father, a very preoccupied merchant, wouldn't let it slide away so easily either. Elizabeth's stomach churned as she took note of the hurricane of fawning and scolding quickly swirling its way to her.

"... And if you feel apt enough to follow me, I'd take you to Headmaster Dippet's office where they are waiting for you."

At catching Professor Dumbeldore's words, the surprise of it all hit her like a pot that banged against her head. It was unasked for from her, but the image of her mother raving to a flustered Headmaster Dippet and her father nodding his agreement in boredom was slowly drawn in her mind by an invisible hand. "You... say they're here, Professor ?" She gulped. "Yes, Miss Emerson, that's what I said, and if you'll follow me, I shall take you to them," he proclaimed, gazing at her momentarily and turning away. Together, they left the hospital wing and crossed bustling hallways and made numerous turns that made it all seem like they were a mere pair of ants journeying their way through a vast garden maze. Heads turned and students lisped and whispered to each other when she walked by. For her, it didn't seem like they'd put in much effort to gossip without attracting her penetrating gaze. When you think about it, grabbing your mate in one arm to whisper to them with your hand covering their ear meanwhile gawping at the target of your gossip is not only not an exact perseverance of secrecy but quite tactless too. And that was exactly what all those girls failed to see, but Elizabeth decided not to react to it this time. It was still as nauseating as ever, but then, it was a simple "no" to her. The hallways seemed a whole lot more abandoned as they edged nearer to the Headmaster's office. In the light of legal guardians brought into question, Elizabeth couldn't help thinking about the befallen Tom laying back at the hospital wing. For sure his parents were informed too, weren't they ? Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth found herself saying,"Professor ?"

"Yes?" He replied, his hands tied behind his back and looking down at her as he paced on.

"It's probably none of my business, but I can't help wondering... What about Tom ?"

"What about Riddle ?" Dumbeldore's tone remained composed and thankfully not anywhere as edgy as Elizabeth thought it to be. "Haven't his - erm - parents been called in ?"

Professor Dumbeldore did take a pause to answer her, but when he did, he so simply said," That, Miss Emerson, concerns Riddle alone, for now, why don't you think about your parents ? I daresay, they seemed to be quite worried about your well-being."

I'm sure they did, Sir. Elizabeth inhaled deeply and braced herself for whatever was awaiting her, and there they were, standing before the grotesque gargoyle. "The Fourth Eclipse," Dumbeldore said to it, and it slowly moved to the side, scratching against the wall it shielded.

Dumbeldore stood aside and beckoned for Elizabeth to go in before him. Torches flickering at her sides and Dumbeldore's heavy footstep falling behind her, Elizabeth climbed the narrow stone staircase that led to the office where she could already hear her parents and Professor Dippet in a deep discussion. The picture of the ovally-shaped, carpeted office whose shelves adorned it like walls came into view as she marched up each step and so did that of her parents sitting around Dippet's desk in comfortable leather armchairs.

Dippet's shimmering brown eyes swiveled to where Elizabeth and Professor Dumbeldore stood and smiled.

"There she is, thank you, Albus." The headmaster beamed and beckoned to Elizabeth to come forward. Her mother's wide eyes twinkled with satisfaction as they fell upon her and looked like she was barely restraining herself from taking her into her arms. What really surprised Elizabeth was the sight of her father. A gentle smile crossed his lips and his eyes were the usual shade of blue and warm. She hadn't seen him since the very start of summer when he'd traveled to America, and there he was. He must've missed a great deal of work. Something felt satisfactory but also guilty about having him here. "Hi," Elizabeth breathed when she stood before her parents. "How are you feeling, Dear ?" Her father spoke. His blonde hair was ruffled and assumably neglected after numerous attempts to comb it but Elizabeth felt happy to see that nothing has really changed. "Great," she smiled.

"Well enough to return to your classes, I hope ?" Professor Dippet cut in, entwining his fingers under his chin. "Yes, I guess so, Sir." Her father stood up from his armchair and beamed widely. "Well, thank you for your time, Headmaster Dippet." He said and his wife followed. It cannot be denied how displeased Elizabeth was with such brief reunion. If you are going to journey such long distances and take-up a very hassled headmaster's time just to ask someone how they're doing, you might as well just write a letter and get it over with. Thinking along these lines, Elizabeth couldn't help admitting to herself how much she missed home and couldn't wait for the promising frost of winter and its Christmas to return back to its comforts. The three of them bid old Dippet farewell and excused Professor Dumbeldore as they made their way out of the office. "I could walk you to the doors," Elizabeth suggested after her mother wrapped her in her longing arms and held her to her chest. "Of course, you could," her father said, reaching a finger to swipe a thread of hair away from her eyes.

"We heard about the boy you helped the other day," her mother continued as they turned around a corner only to find themselves in another winding corridor. Elizabeth gulped silently at these words. She wasn't sure she was ready to discuss that yet. "He was really hurt, Mum," her words trailed off slowly. "But so were you," her father remarked matter-of-factly. "Well, I'm fine now, aren't am I ?" Elizabeth emphasized as she took to observing her pacing feet. "What was his name ? Thomas -Er- Something ?" He was something when it comes to everything, indeed. "Tom Riddle," She muttered, averting her gaze away from her father's. "It was very brave of you," her mother stated soothingly , stepping down a marble flight of staircase. "Very odd, too," father added. "Now, that's enough, Manuel." warned her husband patiently. He shrugged and responded," All I meant to say is that I find it odd that my little Lizzie here skipped class to come down to the greenhouses and peer at that Thomas Riley fellow."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to correct her father on many accounts ; Tom Riddle's name was one and the fact that her interest lay in the pitcher plant and not in him was another. But that was wiped clean from her mind and replaced by the scene which lay out in front of her as they walked past the hospital wing. Her grey eyes were stationed upon the three boys prattling as they stood thronged outside the door of the hospital wing. She watched and watched and it wasn't long until Lestrange, Avery, and Malfoy watched back. They silenced their murmuring and let their fathomless eyes, each with a hungrier spark than the other, pour into her. It was tense and all too scary until...

"Which one of you boys is Thomas Riley ?" Manuel called out.

Elizabeth felt her legs wobble underneath her as if they were chopsticks instead of legs. Defeatedly, embarrassingly, she shifted her eyes from her father staring expectantly at the boys and the boys staring back at him. Each one wore a different expression. Malfoy had his face perked in disgust and superiority as he stared at as if he had a bug crawling up his sleeve, meanwhile Avery, seeming to have grasped his question, smirked humorously back at him and shot him a most undermining look and Lestrange only peered angrily at him. Elizabeth felt her stomach squirm and she wanted to vomit. Breathing heavily, she rushed past her parents, leaving curious pairs of eyes tracing her down the hall and around the corner. "Elizabeth, darling," she heard her mother catch up, grasping her elbow. "No reason to run away like that," she said.

"Mum, that was so embarrassing !" Elizabeth burst out rather loudly. "I know, I know. But, honey, your father has the best intentions, and he is only somewhat - say - unpredictable at times." Mrs. Emerson explained, clutching Elizabeth's arm. "I don't care-" Trotting down the hallway, here came her father's booming voice, interrupting her," What happened ? What'd you run off for ?"

"What did you do ?!" Elizabeth asked grimly. "Nothing. We just had a laugh that's all." Elizabeth blushed furiously, knowing that her father was too oblivious to see that if a Malfoy, an Avery, and a Lestrange were all to laugh, the joke is on you, really. "Well, I'd hate to hold you back anymore. The doors are just this way...,"

They walked in silence until the majestic, oak doors that led to the grounds surfaced before them. Stopping abruptly, Elizabeth said,"Oh, farewell, then."

"Goodbye, Dear," Mrs. Emerson leaned in to give her a quick smooch on the cheek, which was quite inevitable then but the corridor was luckily empty. A few more minutes of hugs and farewells and Elizabeth was walking back to the Gryffindor common room. She wistfully thought of the classes she'd missed the other day and that entire morning. It was never a good thing to skip so many sessions especially if one was on their OWL year. Such tardiness meant a whole deal of staying up late in the library, flipping through tremendous amounts of books. Sighing in exasperation, Elizabeth stood before the portrait of The Fat Lady and said," Scarlet Armory." The portrait swung to the side to reveal the dim Gryffindor house wrapped in peculiar silence. Meanwhile she was peering in the deserted common room, the others were taking notes which were equal in significance as they were in boredom, without a doubt. Sighing once more, she stepped and it so felt like she'd plunged in an entirely new surface from the one she'd been in earlier, for the silence was gone and there was a monotone continues humming in the common room instead. Her head spinning she blindly headed for the stairs and heard the familiar words of a dream repeat in hear head,"But I do detect the suspicious movement of the stars..."

"What's that supposed to..."

The words seemed to collide in her head and all she could hear was a jumble of noise, and as she climbed the staircase leading to the girl's dormitory she heard the sentence that'd been repeating faintly in the back of her mind," Tomorrow, the boy dies ! Understood ?"

Soon enough, Elizabeth covered her mouth in sickness and rushed to grasp the door of the nearby bathroom open and jolted in. Lowering her head into the sink and breathing heavily, something felt wrong, so wrong. And such wrongness felt so close and watching her. Lifting her head up to gaze at the mirror, the one who gazed back at her with an untroubled smirk crossing his lips was not her reflection. He said with his voice that was parallel to that of the one she heard in hear dream before the attack of the pitcher plant, he said,"Hello."


	3. The Slug Club

Chapter 3 : The Slug Club

The bare walls of the bathroom seemed to enclose upon Elizabeth & suffocate her as she progressed to helplessly stumble away from the mirror. The man, whose unnatural features reflected upon the looking-glass, abided to casually staring her down with those shiny, so shiny brown eyes of his. Elizabeth wanted to scream but the growing lump in her throat left her voiceless . She wanted to run to the door but the cold, wide-eyed gaze of the stranger in the mirror left her rooted to the ground. "Hello," he repeated his greeting anew, seeming to have chosen to believe that she might not have heard him properly. What seemed to strike Elizabeth as truly frightening was not those wide, observant, mannequin-like eyes of his nor the alien peculiarity of his face, no. It was the fact that she knew he was merely a work of her imagination in her past dreams, no matter how realistic he looked to be. "It is only polite," he said, his orb-like eyes reflecting Elizabeth's horrified face like a mirror itself," to greet someone back."

"H-hi..." Elizabeth choked as if controlled by the demanding look of his eyes that was crookedly disguised by patience. "That's more like it," he breathed in satisfaction. "What-," she ached to carry out the the sentence with "are you" but she wasn't too keen to figure out what that would spark. "What do you want ?" Elizabeth's skin quivered as the temperature dropped and she edged closer to the door as the light of the bathroom seemed to fade and it all appeared to have happened when the man in the mirror dropped his disguise and frowned in displeasure. She listened to him with her heart shrinking in fear," Well, you could say I'm only mildly interested in you, that's about it." That was about it ? No, it was not. It was much, much more, Elizabeth figured as she found herself drowning in that ugly glare of his. "Interested in you and the gracious Mr. Riddle."

"I barely know him," Elizabeth said. She could feel the hot sweat trickle and roll down her forehead. "It's very cowardly to renounce someone just to preserve your own safety," he stated coldly. "Renounce ?"

"Why did you save him, Elizabeth ? What does he mean to you? "

"Was I to leave him to die ?!"

"Yes ! Yes ! That's exactly what you should've done !" His shrieking shook the ground with such force, and Elizabeth found herself struggling to maintain her balance. She turned her back to the mirror and pulled and jerked the doorknob helplessly only for it to click and spring upwards again. "It won't open unless I want it to," the man in the mirror remarked with a notable tone of thoroughly being unimpressed. Turning once to gaze at him furiously, Elizabeth resorted to banging her small fists against and screaming,"Help !" at the top of her lungs. A sigh of exasperation sounded from her back in the mirror. "Don't tire yourself," he said," you must've figured that I'd be sure not to have anyone catch wind of our conversation."

"What do you want from me ?!" She give in after her voice was lost in desperate pleas for help, and slid to the ground with her back to the door. "A few things," he stated. "Which are ?" Elizabeth stressed impatiently. "How did you listen to us the night before the attack ? How did you get to us ?!" He interrogated her and Elizabeth let her eyes glaze over as she stared at him in profound disbelief as if the words that came out his lips couldn't have sounded any more doltish . "One thing," she said calmly, getting to her feet," you're a figment of my imagination and now I'm about to leave !"

"Not so fast, young lady !" He bellowed. "Well, here's the thing," she stated turning away from the door ,"I was dreaming. You and that gentle friend of yours were in my head. I didn't know who you were plotting to murder and what happened at the greenhouse was a coincidence, so whatever you're up against is none of my concerns." He looked like he was about to say something just when a gentle rap was heard on the door. "Elizabeth, are you in there ?" Elizabeth never thought she'd be happier to hear her sister's voice. Before she could turn back and give the man her meanest glare, the lock of the door clicked and it swung open with a creak. Joelle was standing there with a different look in her. Her blue eyes no longer glistened with pride ; their color was quite faded, in fact. Her lips trembled and before she bursted into tears, she hurled herself into her sister's arms. Taken by surprise, Elizabeth patted Joelle on the shoulder and asked in bewilderment,"What's the matter ?"

"What's the matter ?! I thought you died !" She whimpered, tightly clutching Elizabeth around the neck. She shook her head from side to side, saying,"No, here I am, one piece." Just when Elizabeth thought her lungs were going to burst, Joelle let go of her and dabbed the corner of her eye tenderly. Was that the same Joelle who constantly accused Elizabeth of privacy breaching even if she was standing ten hundred feet away ? The same Joelle who forever held her chin up high to the sky, a friendly reminder that she was above all ? "Oh," she said, pacing around the dorm," you should hear what the other girls are saying."

"What are they saying ?" Elizabeth asked in mild curiosity that professionally masked the utter shock she was feeling on the inside. "All sorts of horrible things," Joelle sniffed," they're jealous, of course -"

"Goodness, Jo, what are they saying ?" Elizabeth interrupted her sharply and inhaled the stress in. Although they were far away in a different sector of the castle perhaps, Elizabeth's ears were ringing with the sounds of girls murmuring gossip about her. It was far from anything she'd ever expected. "Listen, Lizzie, all the girls fancy Tom Riddle and they go into extremes to get his attention but it never works. But you, you never put in any effort and stole him away from them at the listen."

"I didn't steal," Elizabeth interjected angrily, slightly trembling. Her wide eyes were shining and watery and her face could've suited the description of a fresh tomato. Joelle followed her as she weakly stumbled away into the nearest bed. "Leave me alone," she breathed when she felt the springs of the matters sink as Joelle sat by her feet. "I can't Elizabeth. Professor Dumbledore told me to fetch you. We need to go to potions and you can't afford skipping another session. This is our OWL year, after all. C'mon." Joelle muttered soothingly as she reached to brush Elizabeth's hair. Elizabeth looked up to her with tear-stained cheeks. "I can't deal with them." She moaned.

"Yes, you can. I will sit beside you and dare they say a word. C'mon."

Joelle had to carry her back bag and her sister's over one shoulder as she used the other hand to grab Elizabeth through the corridors and down to the dungeons. "Maybe I should just go back. You can tell them-"

"Don't start," Joelle hissed through clinched teeth and tightened her grip on Elizabeth's sleeve. Elizabeth looked awful with her hair tied in a messy bun with countless threads of angry hairs poking out in every direction. Her eyes were fixed in a wide gaze, as if she'd seen the horrors of the world. But Joelle didn't seem to care. She was determined to get them to Potions. They edged closer towards the dungeons when they stepped down a dim spiraling staircase which lead to the underground of the castle. The air was colder and the light was almost extinguished. How could anyone study in such grim surroundings let alone sleep in a dormitory there ? Joelle swung Elizabeth's bag into her arms once they had stopped right outside the dungeon, the hum of the class continuous and low behind the shut door. "Hang the bag over your shoulder and take a breath. God, you look dead." Joelle said and rapped twice on the door. "Come in," they heard.

Elizabeth walked in behind her sister and the dungeon was so very quiet. It only took her a brief glance to see that every head in the classroom was turned to her. Their scathing stares were those of a vulture anticipating the death of its prey. Elizabeth kept her eyes downcast as she traced the billowing hem of her sister's black robes to the back of the dungeon, her ears acute to the murmurs of her peers. Joelle set her cauldron on the wooden desk and said," You can heat it meanwhile I go fetch the ingredients in the drawers."

Elizabeth felt her dry lips with her tongue and nodded vigorously as she sightlessly stared at the black board ahead of her. Measured cool breathes slipped out of her as she struggled to maintain her lapsing state of calm. She might've feigned ignorance all she could but the boys still stared, and she might've played it out brave as long as she desired but her ears weren't mute to the whispers of the girls. Her mind was multitasking ; she kept a portion of it wide-awake to the movements of her classmates, and the other portion for the boy sitting a few desks to the back on the opposite side of the dungeons. Peeking from the corner of her eye, Elizabeth caught Tom Riddle gazing intently and very curiously at her a dozen of times. She hadn't even noticed Joelle scurrying to the desk, her arms heavy with a load of ingredients. "Have you been watching the cauldron ? Good." She bustled and thrust a dozen of dead dung beetles in her hands. "Now crush these while I stir the cauldron," Joelle bossed, and catching Elizabeth's wandering gaze she snapped," And focus for Christ's sake."

She scooped the pestle and took to hammering the demised pests with her sister working by her side.

In a moment or so, Professor Slughorn was pacing around as the dungeon gradually sank in fumes and crackle of boiling liquids, and in a moment or so, what Elizabeth had feared the most happening. On the desk opposite her, there sat a girl named Marci with a snobbish look about her. Her red-hair looked pleasantly childish tied in knots of white ribbons Elizabeth had worn ( and hated ) when she was much younger, and she had her narrow, menacing hazel eyes upon her. Marci's sneer uplifted into charming smile of glistening pearly teeth once she'd caught Elizabeth looking back at her. Elizabeth found it hard to even give her a painful pretentious grimace in return so she blinked and turned away. Marci Harlingen was as much as an eyesore to Elizabeth as any broken flooded public toilet was. They were inseparable as first years and now, and to Elizabeth's delight, estranged. The truth was that Elizabeth could've spent everyday of her life searching for a reason to like Marci, and Marci, with her big, ruthless, gossipy mouth and her mean streak, would've given her a million not to for every one of those days. "Hi, Lizzie," she beamed, her hands entwined and her long eyelashes fluttered. Didn't hear a thing, did I ? Elizabeth thought to herself and carried on crushing the beetles. "It's so good to see you back here," she carried on," I was so worried about you, you know." Elizabeth caught herself grimacing humorously to herself at these words. She'd hurl herself off the Astronomy Tower before Marci Harlingen would express sincere worry to anyone, anything that's been injured if it was not one of those sparkly red long nails. "I visited you at the hospital wing and I would've braided your curls if not for Madam Klark. You know, Lizzie, sometimes, I remember how much fun we used to have back then before our little, um, fallout, and to be honest with you, I miss those days." Is that bile rising in my throat ? Elizabeth deliberated the obvious bit of lie in disgust. She shot keen glances toward Professor Slughorn, hoping he'd came around and tell off that grisly bit of vermin blubbering to her back. "Is that your cauldron whistling, doll ?" Joelle chortled to Marci, distracting her. That was enough to get that, as Elizabeth would put it, leech of her back for the rest of the session. The ringing bell popped the bubble of silence and as the chatter and scraping of chairs sounded loud and clear, Professor Slughorn was heard calling out," Hand in your flasks before leaving !"

Slughorn's desk was already crowded mainly by the tall figures of Riddle and his Slytherin cronies. Joelle, sensing the possibility of undesired run-in with such unpleasant lot perhaps, said," You can go. I will hand in your flask and catch up with at the Great Hall. Go." As Elizabeth squeezed into the jostling throng moving towards the exit of the dungeon, she heard the pompous tone of Slughorn say," Ah, Miss Emerson, just a moment of your time please !" Sighing deeply and cursing the fates, Elizabeth pushed back and retraced her tracks to her professor's table. Joelle's face was set in helpless defeat as she watched Elizabeth approach her and the Slytherins. Riddle was looking directly at her, his face reminded her of the calm of the sea before a storm, unbothered that Elizabeth was faltering under his gaze. The Slytherins were in a whispered exchange of sneers and chuckles and every know and then she was struck with a shrewd glare followed by a hushed scoffing. "How good it is to see you, Elizabeth !"

"Uh, likewise, Professor." I wish he'd stop, she thought, feeling on the edge with Tom staring her down in such calm manner. He needs to stop. Whatever this man wants from me ? She tried to avert her eyes away from the flickering pair of Slughorn's. "I have asked your sister to keep some notes for you covering the material that you've missed." They were both looking intently at Joelle now. She smiled and she said," Yes, Professor, I still have them back at the dormitory. I will give them to her once we are back there."

Elizabeth kept her eyes glued to her pair of boots, she stared closely as if intrigued by their black leather. Her bangs swung low above her narrow eyes like undone curtains and she swept them away swiftly behind her ear. Nodding vigorously, Elizabeth tried to suppress a most feeble grin as she said," Well, thank you for that, Sir. Um, Joelle and I will get a move on ... now ?" Joelle agreed to that with a swift nod but before they'd gotten on their heels, Slughorn added," Not so fast, Miss Emerson. I was hoping I'd tell you about a little gathering I hold down at my office every once in a while." Elizabeth licked her dry lips and tried to keep from stuttering as she repeated," A - a gathering, Sir ?"

"Yes, a gathering," he stated," In fact, I am holding one this Saturday. It'd be great to have you around." He gave her a wink once he'd finally caught her eye, and she looked up at Tom almost instantly. Three good heads taller than her, he stared back, his face momentarily devoid of emotion, but his handsome features bloomed when he'd allowed himself a gentle smile once their eyes had met. Tried as she might to handle him with suspicion but the sight of that charming smile left a tingly, warm sensation coursing through her chest. "I don't know if I'd be up to it, Professor," she looked back to Slughorn. His curled mustache covering his mouth, he responded,"Nonsense, it'd be a fine evening. You will thoroughly enjoy yourself. I insist that you come." Elizabeth found herself helplessly glancing to her sister with the poker face, awaiting to be rescued. She felt like a fly with its fragile wings being swept away by the raging wind into the widow's web that was Slughorn's evening party. Too much homework, detention with Professor Dumbeldore, a meeting with the Headmaster : her head was spinning with excuses to say no. "Fine then, Sir. I guess I'll be there," Elizabeth gave in at last. After chatting up a very appealed Slughorn, Joelle and Elizabeth walked out of the gloomy dungeon. Their footsteps echoed as they fell upon the dark stone, and Joelle said,"Quite a busy week for you, ay ? The girls are already obsessed with you and Tom. Can't imagine what they'd do if they hear about the Slug Club." Elizabeth was trembling and she snapped, chewing her fingernails," I don't need a reminder of it, thank you." Behind them came the Slytherins pouring out of the potion's dungeon, their shouts loud and clear. They ought to have taken a turn around the corner and headed down to their lair - dormitories. They all seemed to hold their breaths when Riddle sped out of their midsts to catch up with Elizabeth. Although she stopped just when her sister had, she kept her back to the resonant falls of Tom's boots approaching her. Her index finger hung loosely from the edge of her lips, she seemed to be shivering like someone with an awful cold. He lightly touched her shoulder when he stood by her side," Elizabeth, Joelle," he pronounced in a greeting. "Hi," Joelle squeaked back and Elizabeth nodded her acknowledgement, hoping to appear to be as disinterested as disinterested is. "I haven't thanked you for what you did the other day."

Elizabeth was chewing her nails again. "You don't have to really. It's alright." He touched her shoulder again. Stop. Stop. Noticing how bitter she seemed, he added calmly,"Alright, I hope ?"

No, get your hands off me. "Perfect," she breathed in, turning to grin at him, which she wished she hadn't. The gleaming flames of the torches illuminating the path of the dungeons swirled in his dark eyes like bronze lights reflected upon the surface of a black pond, and it was hard not to drown in the inky sight of those eyes. Now that they were facing each other, their faces were a few inches apart, and before long, Elizabeth was admiring the pale features of his that seemed to have been carefully sketched upon his face. "I will see you Saturday evening," he whispered. Blushing furiously, Elizabeth dropped her gaze to the ground and found herself incapable of pulling her breath let alone say something in return. Tom turned away, pacing hastily into the opposite direction. "Oh, don't," Elizabeth moaned once Joelle had opened her mouth. It felt like her whole year was about to go down in flames, not just this one week.


	4. The Calm before the Storm

Chapter 4 : The Calm Before the Storm

The glow of dawn trickled through the windows of the Gryffindor dormitory and ploddingly crept around the edges of Joelle's four poster, jolting her out of a very peaceful slumber. Pulling herself up was made difficult by the drowsiness she couldn't shake off, weighing her back down into the mattress. She yawned loudly and winced as her eyes adjusted to the bright atmosphere of the dorm. The girls were seemingly awake for she heard murmurs of hushed discussions, snorting, and shuffling of slippers. Her face felt numb and unbearably oily. She even tried to comb the natural disaster that was her hair with her fingers but then struggled to wrench her hand free once her hair had coiled around it like the Devil's Snare. Joelle swung her legs off the four poster and her feet skirred the chilly ground for the warmth of her slippers. Once she'd slipped a pair of fluffy and pleasantly warm flip-flops over her feet, she rose off the bed and made her way to the bathroom. Her shoulders were hunched and her head drooped as if she were sleepwalking but from what Joelle could make out from dozen glances around her, she was being watched by a very moody crowd of mean girls. Joelle decided to straighten up. She knew too well not to show the slightest amount of ungracefulness to them. Walking away from the rows of four posters, she'd caught the faces of her once friends and now archenemies huddled up , gossiping away. She could see Clair's chocolate brown eyes glaring at her in displeasure. It is a good time to throw your chin up, Joelle thought, strutting away. It was all a silent deceleration for war and the first shots were bound to be fired soon, but whatever, it's either them or Elizabeth, she thought again. How could she have believed such company to be so altruistic and loyal only for them to unsheathe their daggers once she gave them her back ? And all for a boy ?! Nearing the bathroom, Joelle heard the spitting of a perfume bottle and the strong odor slipped from under the shut door and found its way through the allergic nostrils of Jo and she sneezed. She had encountered that unpleasant smell before but never quite ascertained to whom it belonged. It was a mystery to her as to who would find the odor of a dozen mashed roses entrancing. She covered her nose with her sleeve before the swirling purple tail of that attar engulfed the hallway. She couldn't picture just how it must be like in there. Joelle opened the door and was greeted with an enthusiastic," Morning, Joelle."and stepped in. "Hi," she said to Maya. Measuring the slim, dark skinned and resplendent lady as she combed those brown curls of hers, Joelle wondered how anyone could be so bubbly at such an early hour in the morning. "So, it's you with that perfume, ha ?" Joelle took her place in front of the mirror beside Maya. Maya looked embarrassed at that and she fidgeted with the bulge in her pocket which Joelle was certain where the bizarre bottle was ," Oh, yes," she said," My aunt got it from Greece. She wouldn't just let me give it back to her, you know. Does have a unique sort of smell, mind you." Joelle wasn't listening. She seemed to have been petrified by her reflection. What she imagined her hair to be like might've been a classier adaptation of what it really was. Those blonde threads looked rebellious interlaced into each other, making her whole head look like a shrub that needed some serious trimming. "Oh, some lotion could help with those," Maya remarked, jerking her chin at the image of puffy black bags under Joelle's eyes that were bloodshot. Considering her peculiar taste in fragrances, Joelle wasn't keen to find out just what kind of lotion Maya would recommend. Her eyes shifted to a curious crack in the mirror. Wasn't really a crack ; it was a triangular chop in the looking-glass. Looked as if a solicitous artist really wanted a piece of the mirror. "What's this ?" Joelle asked, edging closer to the triangle and furrowing her eyebrows. "What ? that ?" Maya turned to google at it too, forgetting the comb hanging for dear life to her curls. "Oh, yes, I don't how it came to be. It's the first time I have seen it there. Good thing it's in the corner otherwise it would've been a disaster." Maya returned to the seemingly endless cycle of combing her springy hair. Joelle backed away from the sinks and looked deeply thoughtful as she gazed at the broken corner of the glass. Inhaling deeply the flaring incense of Maya which she hoped to be pure oxygen instead, she coughed severely and then asked," You haven't by any chance seen Elizabeth here, have you ?"

"Yes, I have," Maya told," just a short while ago. She looked quite flustered, if I should say so myself."

Tiptoeing down marble staircases, peeking around corners, and rushing with the wind through narrow passageways, and that's about summed up Elizabeth's turbulent morning. She was as alert as a deer marking its tracks away from a pack of lions could be. Her lungs stung with every breath and her eyes were watery for they had missed the refreshing touch of a blink ever since the start of this troubling journey. Around her neck were bronze chains that came into a loop around her chest for a hanging triangular locket that had no family picture as it is supposed to, but a triangular reflector. The colors shimmering in the glass were distorted as if a kid came across several paints and decided to draw his perception of a rainbow which he had never seen. Coming to a halt in a clear hallway, Elizabeth leaned against the wall and struggled to pull short breaths. "Are you sure whatever that chamber you speak of is in a... bathroom ?!" She burst out. The blended colors of the reflector swirled together in a cloud at her utterance and then came a sudden gleam of light that faded to a depiction of the alien man she encountered in the bathroom. "And are you there yet ?" He asked. Elizabeth bent her neck to look down at him. Every minute or so a voice in her head would tell her that she had gone mad and she better get back to the common room before matters escalate and she's kicked out of school. And everything this "man" ( she still hadn't dredged up what he is exactly as he wouldn't tell her a thing he thought she didn't have to know ) said only made the calling of that voice louder and louder and not hushed it down. "Do you," she huffed clutching her knees, her little necklace was hanging only a few inches from the tiles now,"have any idea, the foggiest, slightest idea just what kind of trouble I'd be in ?"

And along with her scolding came an exasperated sigh from the dangling reflector. "And you don't even care !" Elizabeth raged , straightening up and the echo of her voice danced away throughout the deserted hallway. "I broke a portion of the bathroom mirror just to carry you around and now I'm up when I'm not supposed to be. If anyone catches me I'll be out of here before I could stutter," It was the man in the mirror !" !" Before she could stomp her feet in fury and wake up the castle, he reasoned calmly," Elizabeth, my dear, it's not much that I ask of you, is it ?" She stepped up her pace along the passageway lest any uninvited figure came their way."All I want you to do is to take me to that bathroom, conceal me under the sinks where no one can see, and come back after a day. Is that so hard ?"

Before she could mouth off and spew her endless objections, they were struck by the sound of falling footsteps that resonated a few yards back and at that Elizabeth sprinted away like a cheetah. A broom closet shaped up ahead and she hopped into its dark shadows and shutting the doors, she remained like lifeless statue for a while, afraid that her shortest breath might draw attention to their hideout. A few minutes had flown by and her necklace spoke out in a balmy tone, sounding bored,"Have you been caught yet ?" _Sounding bored_. Elizabeth's shaky breaths escaped her pursed lips and she wrung her hands until they'd turned pale, tears all but spilling from the corner of her eyes. Her outrage was swelling from under her fears. "O-oh, I'm- I'm sorry,"she stuttered, her voice breaking away but there was no mistaking her outrage," Have I not am-amused you with my little cl- clear out ?" If the dinky closet wasn't colored in darkness it would've been cast in a red glow from Elizabeth's livid little face that had turned the crimson shade of a tomato. Her necklace seemed like an ordinary necklace now that the man dwelling in its reflector no longer spoke. "Elizabeth, if we'll be having such meltdown once in every little time, we won't accomplish a thing. You need to pull yourself together."

Her back scratched as it slid down against the wall and after many rushed breaths she murmured darkly,"Of course, hang around my neck as I do all your dirty little work for you."

"I trust that you've brought your wand along ?"

"Wouldn't I ever ?" She responded, wiping its sharp end out before her like a sword. They'd finally arrived at their destination. The sun's gleam was powerful now as it illuminated the hallway, marking the end of dawn. It's almost time for breakfast, Elizabeth thought. She felt the hot sweat roll down her forehead as she reached for the doorknob. _Clink-clunk. _Locked_. _Thetip of her wand grazed the cold metal of the handle and she muttered," Alohomora."

Golden sparks swirled about the door knob and before long the lock clicked. Elizabeth slipped like a shadow into the bathroom. The dripping of leaked water and the flow of it through the ancient pipes smothered her hearing. "And we are here," Elizabeth said in a sing song voice. "Marvelous," he responded in equal enthusiasm,"Now, have a look around the sinks and tell me if you notice something rather odd."

"Alright, let's see,"

Five sinks were laid out before her in a circle. They all stood firmly against a towering column sketched with lines. She paced about them, her jaw hanging idly as she examined the column and its bearings. "I've never seen this anywhere else. See, the sinks are usually put in a row against the wall but this is quite different." She noted.

The reflector slapped rapidly against her chest as she came to a halt and the chains entwined and came apart. "True strange," he commented," but it won't get us anywhere. Try around the sinks." Elizabeth took to moving from one to another sink, opening each tap and watching the crystal water flow freely, until she got to the last one. She heard the rusty creak of the tap but no such water came. "Well, what do you think ?" She asked. "Hmm," she heard,"A little off, for sure, check the bottom of it, will you ?""

Crouching down, Elizabeth's grey eyes examined its white stone and concealed around a corner was just about what she earned to see. "Aha," she chuckled, running her fingertips against the carving of the minuscule snake. Its touch felt strangely coarse. Elizabeth clutched the reflector from around her neck and pulled the chains level with the snake. "See this ?" She said. He was quiet for a minute and then said," Try your magic." Elizabeth was perplexed," Are you sure that would work ? I mean, surely this chamber has lots of dark magic. I can't do this."

He was quick to correct her about it when he spoke out," But this chamber is run by a fifteen year old boy, Elizabeth. I just need an idea of what goes on around here." Her wand poked the snake and she muttered every charm that came to her mind but all in vain. The stone on which the snake was sculpted glistened spotless, unaffected by it all. The factuality that no such magic that she could learn on the premises of Hogwarts would help to crack the code occurred to her only when her wand was pressed against that stone so hard it was a touch away from being snapped in half."No, no use." She repeated, pulling her wand away and sighing. "I see. Now, hide me around the pipes of the opposite sink and hurry along. You can't afford getting caught."

"Okay then," she breathed. At the end of the opposite sink, the pipes erected in disarray. Elizabeth wriggled the necklace off her neck and thrust the chains under the thickest of pipes. When it sank under the blank aluminum and she heard the pipe groan back into place, Elizabeth got to her feet and stared down at the soaked hem of her robes. Sighing deeply, it was her wand to the rescue once again. She swished it sideways and out of its tip ejected the sparks that left her robes spick-and-span. And at that very moment her ears twitched to the familiar sound of footsteps right outside the bathroom door. There was no time to cower, no time to panic, and no time whatsoever for anything as the door slammed opened, unraveling the dark figure of Tom Riddle. His sleek black hair was his usual, neatly combed to one side, his robes so clean it seemed atrocious for them to be swept along such floors as that of this bathroom, and a distinguishable prefect's badge pinned to his collar, catching Elizabeth's eye with its momentarily gleam. Those dark eyes of his had a layer of comeliness to them that perfectly concealed how depraved and lifeless they really seemed to be, and if what was said about eyes being the windows to the soul was anywhere near truthful, Elizabeth couldn't possibly imagine what sort of person Tom Riddle would be. Elizabeth watched all sorts of expressions flash across his face at the sight of her in a twinkle ; shock, outrage, suspicion, appeal, and last but not least, _calm_. "Morning, Elizabeth," he greeted her with an air of self-importance. Elizabeth's lips and brain were far too dry to function after such unpleasant surprise. "You- you must be confused. This is the girl's bathroom." It could've been the most ingenious thing Elizabeth ever blurted of frustration. He instantly dropped his demanding gaze and looked a tad embarrassed at that. Yes, what are you doing here ? "I am terribly sorry," he claimed backing up against the door. "I just thought I'd check as this very door was locked last night." You bet. A flash of red soared across the black of his pupil. "Makes me wonder what brought you to barge in here this early in the morning ?" The lump in Elizabeth's throat was growing, blocking the oxygen route to her brain, and slowing her thoughts. Oh, no, no, no, think, think, THINK ! Pulling nervously at the edge of her sleeve, Elizabeth managed to say in a stammer,"Oh, that, well, uh, is it really ? I thought it was just time for breakfast at the Great Hall ?" Please let it be true, please let it be true ! Elizabeth's prayers raced through her mind like flown paper airplanes, and she bit her lip and kept her index-finger and middle-finger crossed. Tom's eyes dropped once more. Looking up again, he said,"You haven't told me, why this bathroom in particular ?" Elizabeth found that she really didn't have to think about what to say next. She looked him dead in the eyes and whispered," Well, it was sort of urgent, and as you said, it's just a bathroom. I've nothing to offer you. And now, if you'll get out of my way-"

Elizabeth tried to bypass him and she could see herself going through the doorway and out to the hallway just as his mean shadow loomed in until a firm hand held on to her shoulder and steadied her her place. They were so close that Elizabeth could smell the pleasant scent coming from him. "Hogwarts is a grand castle," his cool breath tickled her ear lop and sent shivers up her spine,"with numerous twists and turns and underaged wizards. Who knows what might happen? Every minute of the day there is an expectancy of an accident. And now that I see you wandering freely around these corridors, I feel obliged to warn you ; be careful, watch your back."

Feeling incredibly unnerved, Elizabeth pulled away aggressively. "I know that, thank you very much," she bristled and hoped that her walk was as unfaltering as it could be as she made her way to the Gryffindor Tower...

The walls of the toilet stall confined her as Elizabeth relished from her feast of pumpkin juice cup, white rice, and spinach soup on a tray, sitting on the toilet seat, Elizabeth was in a hurry to gorge it all up. Every minute or so, she'd hear the door slam open and delicate giggles would flutter in along with the stomping feet of her peers. She couldn't help feeling transfixed each time such intrusion occurred for one of her worst fears was that someone might find out about her odd eating habits inside toilet stalls, and her anxiety had been ever so active since almost all the girls had turned against her after her numerous encounters with the none other than the good old Tom Riddle. It wasn't a peculiarity for her to be spending her meal times locked up in restrooms ; in fact, she'd been onto it ever since her second year. She hated how clustered and loud the Great Hall seemed to be, always beating with laughter, shouts, banging of goblets, and the ever so obnoxious clinking of cutlery. She hated how her head couldn't stop spinning about how a pair somewhere in The Hall might be talking behind her back, laughing at her. Elizabeth always felt like a hotspot for shrewd eyes and nasty whispering whenever she was there. And thus, she found it a lot simpler to eat in stalls.

Sipping her pumpkin juice, its liquid cooling her jugular, Elizabeth almost choked herself to silence when she heard another rather loud barge in of hurried feet. "Elizabeth !" She recognized her sister's voice," Are you here ?"

Clearing her throat, she sort of croaked in reply,"Yeah, I'm here. Just a moment." Elizabeth carefully placed the tray on the ground and turned to unlock her stall. A pair of furious blue eyes were glowering at her as the door slowly creaked back to reveal the full figure of Joelle. "Eating in stalls again, are we ?" She tattled, hands on her hips. Elizabeth wasn't quite impressed with that look. Joelle could've looked much meaner if she had given up the four year old vibe for some sass. "Oh, please," Elizabeth moaned, bypassing her sister and stepping before the sinks,"What does it mean to you ?" She was frowning deeply at her reflection now. A childhood and several teenage years plagued with anxiety can be tough. And the worst part was, everyone who didn't understand always tried to butt in. "Where have you been all morning ? You have been acting in very strange ways lately. Are you trying to brush me off ? Is that what it is ?" Elizabeth couldn't help but to smirk in delight at this. She allowed herself the pleasure of beholding an outraged Joelle. She did this whenever she felt neglected ; widely flung arms, furrowed brows, and a whole expression that read," Come at me." It looked painfully cute each time. Tittering wickedly, Elizabeth responded with her staring eyes glued to the reflection of her sister,"Don't throw a bizarre scene now , will you ? 'Specially not here in a bathroom where no one can see it. I suggest you keep the drama for a greater spectacle or cat fight." A row between the two was imminent as theirs mouths were wide open, readied for shouting, but at the neck of time, an echoing cough of an elder sounded at the door of the bathroom. Her jaw loosely hanging, Elizabeth swiveled her eyes from the solid door to her sister and watched the tender red blushes on her cheekbones flush to a pale white colour. "Oh, my," she fumbled, blinking at the door as if not believing it really was there,"Um, Elizabeth, I've forgotten. I found Professor Dumbledore waiting out there... for you." Joelle's cautious gazed flashed like lightning to where the door stood. It was Elizabeth's turn now to wash out all colour from her features with fear. Splotching her face with an expression of mixed fury and horror, Elizabeth hissed," What ?"

"He told me to come in here and get you. He wants to talk." She sprung a few paces forward and clutched Joelle's shoulders. They were nose to nose now. "Do you mean to say that he knows I'm here ?" Elizabeth's eyes blazed with a fire and poured into the mortified ones of her sister, anticipating an answer. "Well, obviously,"her voice trailed off into silence and she tried hard to lose that scorching gaze of Elizabeth.

"Did he tell you what he wanted of me ?"

"No."

Sighing deeply, Elizabeth cowered away, her grey little eyes covered behind shaky palms. She turned away and marched towards the door, her breathing short and irregular. _Someone knows and it's the one person you hoped wouldn't have to know. "_Hello sir," Elizabeth greeted Professor Dumbeldore, her head poking out of the partially gaping bathroom door. He looked a tad fatigued with his eyes dropping over darks bags and sipping a fuming cup of coffee. "Is everything alright, Professor ?"

He looked down at her and his eyes ran over that false smile glued upon her face twice. "Yes, Miss Emerson, thank you," he cleared his throat with another cough and said, his voice remarkably low," I was hoping I could run in to you here. There are a few matters that we need to go over ." She tried to look inculpable at this, denting her ear-to-ear grin. Her thoughts were flashing in her head like a picture book with its pages caught in the wind of a gale. _Could he possibly know about what happened in the other bathroom ? Stop it, how could he ? _She beamed brightly. It was so pretentious ; it painfully strained her jaws. "What could they be ?" She asked, the words spilling from the edges of that crooked smile. Dumbeldore was gently spinning the coffee as he eyed her and Elizabeth could her its liquid slap against the glass of the mug as it revolved in his grip. "Your singing sessions with Professor Merrythought, of course."

"Sessions ?"Elizabeth repeated in awe. _That was quick_. _If that woman thinks I will be yodeling on a stage in a matter of a short time, she may as well book a ward at St. Mungo's right now. _Her thoughts incrusted on the back of her mind all the while her wide gaze rested upon Professor Dumbeldore. "Yes, session, Miss Emerson," he reassured her," Have the two of you not discussed this ?"

Elizabeth dropped her eyes to the white tiles, a ruminant gleam in them, and her hand, which held on the door, slipped to her side. "Yes, we have, but I thought I'd be meeting with her, Sir."

"You are, Elizabeth, you are. It's only that a few students over the past years have shown little to no interest in such activities, and if I shall say so myself, members of the staff have been astounded that a student wishes to sing for the school." What a time for wary smiles and sweaty palms, it was. The manner in which Dumbledore had spoken so complacently made it all seem as if he had never brushed anxiety over the course of sixty years of his life. Elizabeth was scratching at a spot in her hair as she tried to progress the wind in which she was caught up in. _Blast her, what has this madwoman got me into ! _She was half chortling, half squeaking in pure agony then. It turned out that toads and mice aren't the only ones that could be stressed out by Transfiguration teachers. "Uh-ha, yeah," _more scratching,"_So, what's that supposed to mean, Sir ? Will I not be rehearsing with Professor Merrythought ?"

"You will, just not now, Miss Emerson. Today, you'll be demonstrating your skills to the staff, only if you are comfortable with that, of course." _Does being comfortable include hyperventilation and meltdowns ? No, I didn't think so, Sir. _But out of her very pursed lips wriggled out a choked,"Okay." and she was whisked down the hallway away from her sanitary, alongside Professor Dumbeldore.

The teachers' room was sealed by a battered door that undoubtedly stood without a renovation or paint job ever since the first stone of Hogwarts was lain. They edged nearer towards it and their ears tuned in to the various muffled, falling-and-rising decibels of Professors' jumbled voices. Elizabeth's jaw was left to fall forgotten long before her lips went dry. She couldn't believe an entire staff room wanted to hear her sing. Ah, how badly this school needs a radio. She considered asking for a glass of water before she thought she'd die of dehydration but her lips wouldn't comply. A knock, an "Albus, you know don't have to knock.", a breezy swing of the door, and there they were, caught in the electric wave of a dozen elderly, watchful eyes directed their way. "Kathryn here to sing ?" Professor Binns lifted his transparent bowed head to goggle at the pair of them. Elizabeth watched back. It was definitely aberrant to any ears accustomed to the voice of this man - this phantom - to hear anything other than The Goblin Revolution from him. "Elizabeth," Elizabeth coughed her righteous name in correction. Those wild grey peepers of hers voyaged about the olive-shaped table, where the teachers lay back comfortably in armchairs, catching the eye of each one and - well, well, well, "Staff Room" is a tad ironic now, isn't it ? What's next Mr. Perfect, applying for headmaster ? Her gaze spilled into those fathomless eyes of his, drowning. Tom Riddle sat upright with his hands entwined besides Slughorn, his most sophisticated pose yet. He looked more like a man than a boy. "It is Elizabeth, Cuthbert, and yes, she is." Her ears were engulfed with the calm wording of Dumbledore, addressing Professor Binns, but her stationary eyes saw Tom blink in response to these words. Won't you try and outstare me this time ? She thought with her brows furrowed, her anxiety a forgotten history. And as if these juvenile contemplations were gripped from her stream of thought by an invisible pair of hands which facilely dropped them into the cerebrum of Riddle, a very, very hard stare was shot her way and, along with her breath, her whole body sized up. Defy it, defy it, don't let it break you...

It was an outface battle between the two, and strangely enough, Tom pulled out first. Before turning away, he did something quite inexplicable - he allowed himself a smile. An alluring, gentle smile, partially showing off the shimmer of his teeth and all but fluently altering his fine appearance. That was more than an enough of a blow to shake Elizabeth head to toe. _What's that supposed to mean_ ?! She marveled in suspicion all the while Professor Merrythought's words fell upon a deaf ears. "... So happy I could show you all just what I have been telling you, and I will be even happier to announce that I will be looking for instrumental players now that we have found our vocalist, and Hogwarts will have it's own musical band in a heartbeat." The last couple of words were spewed from her mouth with the euphoria of a woman telling a an anticipating crowd that she's finally with child. Meanwhile in Elizabeth's head, there was a raging hurricane and in the midsts of the swirling were carried the echoes of shrill screams. She couldn't make out the words being yelled out as they were far off, but with the flash of lightening, she heard them loud and clear. They said,"_Do something_!"

Elizabeth instinctually gulped aloud before Professor Merrythought could only make it worse and claim that she talked the Daily Prophet into covering the event. "Yes ?" She leaned in. "Just a moment of your time please," Elizabeth mouthed. Scampering away to a corner, the eyes of the room on Elizabeth and Merrythought's hand on her wrist, she burst out in murmurs,"I'd hate to tell you that you're under the wrong impression but you are, Professor."

Merrythought's owl-like eyes widened and she set her in a quizzical gape as she voiced," Hmm ?!"

"I never agreed to this ! I thought we'd be practicing in private ! I don't know what your thinking, but I'm not ready to start a career," Elizabeth mouthed on until a jaded Merrythought clapped her bony hand upon Elizabeth's lips. "Hush, hush, dear child," she told as she used her other claw to stir Elizabeth, who tried to take advantage of friction by pressing her feet against the carpeted floor, away from their cramped corner.

"Don't speak of what you don't understand, what is talent if it's not flaunted ? "In private", what a joke ! You need to understand that anxiety comes and goes. You can't let it control you."

_You need to understand that you're mental. _Before long, Elizabethwas watching her pale figure through yet another circular mirror hanging on the wall. _How I have grown to detest those bloody mirrors_ ! The reflection was that of Elizabeth's head pressed hard against her Professor's, thoroughly bothered by those skeletal hands clamped upon her shoulders. "All you have to do is to look at your reflection, my little darling, and sing as if you have the staff room to yourself this afternoon."

"With all do respect, Ma'am, I don't think that will be fitting."

Merrythought wiggled a fang-like finger before her dry lips and hissed in a threatening manner that may have been intended to be a,"Hush." Well, after that, how dare I contradict you ? Her shaky fingers were interlocked and the skin of them was pale spotted with red pinches of blood. "What's the meaning of this, Galatea ?" She heard Slughorn's gruffly tone, and her eyes were filled with image of the thin gold framing of the oval mirror and its reflection of her blanch face and inaudibly chattering teeth. "All but a simple method for her to focus on her singing, Horace." Merrythought replied. _How embarrassing. "_Sing the one you sang to me the other day, Elizabeth, my dear." She said before settling down on one of the seats. _Good God, I can't. C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, there's no turning back. You need to do it NOW_ ! Her head tried to force a melody out of her but the little and dominant insecure part of her kept her lips clamped upon when another, so tightly, she looked as if she'd swallowed a whole lemon. She was very much aware of the eerie silence wreathing her, followed by the buzz-like sensation of eyes on her back. _The sooner we do this ; the sooner you're out of here_. _Okay, nope, no time for prayers either_. Breathing in more air than any human lungs can possibly uphold, she closed her eyes and sang. The words that flew out off her lips were caked with a soft melody and were that of an ancient love poem in which she was so fascinated by its melancholy. Half way through the first stanza... her eyelids twitched impulsively and a roll of sweat trickled down her for head...

On to the second stanza... Elizabeth's voice broke off due to a slight prickling on her back which she couldn't explain, but then, her voice hitched back into an enjoyable tone.

Halfway there... the prickling had intensified ; it was becoming hard to concentrate.

ALMOST there... _Elizabeth... You're in danger, everyone's in danger..._

The adrenaline rushing through her veins threw both of her eyelids open wide, and as she was in that trance of hers, she caught Riddle's face at the corner of the mirror. He caught hers and the edge of his lips twitched to an unmistakable smile ... again. Panic, pure panic was what she felt. "Is everything alright, Miss Emerson ?" Dumbeldore spoke out.

"Albus - allow me," Merrythought interjected, her chair scraping the floor as she stood up. She was marching solidly towards her but before Elizabeth could feel the old hag's breath on her face, she burst out," Professor, I need to go." That glowering face of Merrythought overwhelmed Elizabeth's sight as she closed in on her, and she said in a soft growl only she and Elizabeth could hear," You're embarrassing me here, young lady. I forbid you from leaving. Turn right around and sing as you ought to." Elizabeth's eyes never left the Professor's even as she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Professor," she tried to sound as sincere as she possibly could and sped off before her teacher could reach for her hand, catching Tom's bowed head as she rushed through the door.

Only when her feet almost gave out and she would've fallen to the ground from her brisk pace, Elizabeth found herself outside the door of the third floor bathroom. She burst through, the muffled sobbing coming from one of the stalls tickling her ears. Her eyes were wide and shimmering in the dim candlelight as they gaped at that particular sink behind which she hid the necklace. The door to the opposite stall slammed open and out peered a spotty, sniffing face with a trail of tears down her cheeks. Strangely enough, not even that faltered Elizabeth's pace. She got to her knees before the sink and grabbed about the pipes, only to reach for... _nothing._


End file.
